On the stage of Cirko, Imogen Huzel and Inka Pehkonen gamble by filling a show with their previously killed ideas. A fever dream, a farce on living as an artist nowadays; monetising failure keeps audiences hooked. And to that I (who?!) want to say YES, sharing a few thoughts that linger with me after seeing the premiere of this show.

If I were to walk on thin ice, I would want to pay Imogen and Inka to teach me hand walking first. For a fellow artist, constructing a show full of “killed darlings” feels like a risk. With everything that is competing for attention onstage and in the art world, their concept lets some fresh air in. Then they fill it with excessive smoke and hairspray. Where audiences, colleagues, and funding bodies come with assumptions, expectations and projections, this group’s  poker chips are authenticity, vulnerability and experimentation. 

Not knowing much about the contemporary circus (appropriate yayy… putting my journalist glasses on…), writing about this show makes me think of its similarities to another contemporary circus show I saw. It was in 2022, a touring production of students of Ésacto’Lido school. Life-changing, never seen before, went to watch it 4 times, starstruck, got a weird crush, blahblahblah… But what seems to me to be at heart of contemporary circus is constantly and relentlessly poking into the illusion of the rational, which creeps into human experience as a side effect of aging in the current epoch. Put this way, stakes seem high; as a person that chooses this profession, you need to be ready to riot. And it becomes quite contagious.

The show is conceived quite traditionally for the circus, in the form of numbers or skits, so in general, it’s easy to follow. Imogen and Inka lead the audience through the process by introducing their numbers, putting the fourth wall up and down as they please. You get the feeling that you are in the room with them, and even empathise with the weight of expectations that rest upon their shoulders. It was enticing to watch the artists fight for its audience. The whole team shoots its weapons, the theatre machine is steaming. But it’s on a journey of crashes as they purposefully oiled it with abused deep fryer oil.

Handstands, trapezes, karaoke, rapping, even a gymnastics/dance choreographed number. Masterful and amusing as they are standing alone, reframed in this context, they are also used as means of creating quite a real and touching narrative throughout a work mostly relying on farce – something along the lines of it’s quite shit being a circus artist these days but we can not imagine anything else because we fucking love it. Pardon my French. I do not want to claim that this is the main force behind this work, nevertheless I would read it as its strength; an almost healing ability to take a piss out of yourself, with both humour and pride, and spreading this mindset beyond. This added depth also differentiates their kind of practice from amusement-oriented shows.

The premise really is so stupid (in the most flattering way), and you are invited to see its cracks and limitations, which are often awarely worked with. Self-deprecation as a tool may not land with everyone in the same way, but it holds power over the audience, keeping us invested with an almost pornographic quality. Seeing someone fail might be as enticing as seeing them succeed. You get both and more. During the show, the audience is invited to join the artists onstage, in a profoundly sensitive shared moment that attests to Inka’s and Imogen’s love for what they do, accompanied by huggingly-comforting music by sound designer Ortansia Rhastoni.

Coming back to rioting – I can’t help but to see the idea of parading one’s own forsaken ideas around in broad daylight as one big middle finger, pointing at expectations of presenting an individualist-professional-spotless artistic persona to the productivity machine of the art world these days. Refusal to conform might seem as threatening to one’s livelihood and security. Not everyone can or is willing to experiment and goof around in all honesty. Or some people might not yet even know it’s their cup of tea. Inka, Imogen and the team behind this show suggest that it’s a plausible way of working, and can be done with non-serious seriousness.

Go see “Yes Person”, and see if you are a yes person!

P.S. There are lots of banana peels onstage – watch out…

 

Yes Person

Show by Based on Kimberly | 29.01-07.02.2026 | Cirko, Helsinki